


Not Allowed

by LadySt0rm



Category: The Borgias (2011)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Edging, Light Masochism, Loyalty, M/M, Obedience, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 07:02:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12743394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySt0rm/pseuds/LadySt0rm
Summary: His master had given his command and Micheletto would obey.





	Not Allowed

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2012. Imagine my surprise when I found this in a dusty corner of my computer. I suppose my younger self was too embarrassed to post it on the fanfiction.net account (which my RL friends know about)...
> 
> I'm so taking the existence of this AO3 account to my grave.

In the dark chambers of the villa that Cesare maintained outside his lodgings at the Vatican, one man seemed to loom over another. One was fully clothed in simple, yet rich garments; the other was clad only in a thin shirt and tight leather breeches. In the dim light of the candles, Micheletto found that his master’s presence loomed larger than usual. Dark curly hair haloed his master’s chiseled face, whilst those dark, dark eyes pierced him intently.

“On your knees, sweet assassin.” Came the whispered growl, dangerously low.

“Your Eminence?” The order, abrupt and sudden, came on the heels of what had been a discussion about Micheletto's latest assignment. It caught Micheletto flat-footed, or he would not have voiced that half-question – his master’s orders were quite clear, after all.

“I dislike repeating myself.” Strange how a short statement like that could cause a shiver to traverse down Micheletto’s spine, even when the dangers that a practicing assassin in this day and age faced could not faze him.

Almost instinctively, Micheletto found himself dropping to his knees with his usual cat-like grace. Somehow, Cesare Borgia’s voice turned him on like no others’ could. Perhaps it was the reason why Micheletto had so quickly decided to offer his services to this man; had been so ready to acknowledge the latter as his master. Something in this man, this powerful, strong man, called out to him like no other person ever had.

But now was not the time for these ruminations. His master beckoned to him with a curt motion of his strong hand. Knowing what was expected of him, Micheletto crawled forward on the hard stone floor until he was kneeling right in front of his master. If his master had been feeling generous tonight, he would have moved to the plush red carpeted area just a few feet away, however, as it was, Micheletto’s bones ground into the cold floor with each motion, until his knees were aching deliciously.

It was not only the pain that Micheletto enjoyed, no, he could hardly be an assassin if he were masochistic. No, pain by itself was a vital warning sign of danger that Micheletto healthily respected. However, coupled with a steady dose of his master’s dominance…pain was a heady thing indeed, almost like the finest wine of Rome.

“Take me into your mouth, Micheletto,” His master ordered with a predatory smirk on his face, almost as if he could read Micheletto’s thoughts. Micheletto would not put it past his master; he knew first-hand of his master’s brilliant mind, after that stunt with the canons.

Unlacing his master’s breeches, Micheletto sighed with reverence as his master’s cock sprang out of its confinement, a drop of precum already glistening at the top. He reached out with his hand, ready to pleasure his master…only to be halted by another command. “You are not allowed to touch me with your hands.”

Blinking, Micheletto had to steel himself with a deep breath in order to control his own reaction to the tones of command in his master’s voice. His own cock was hot and throbbing in his leather breeches, the laces pressed cruelly into his harden flesh. If he had been with any other partner, he would have asked, pleaded or simply insisted to have his cock released from its current leather cage, however, with his master…

Micheletto found that he _wanted_ to obey, wanted so badly to please his master that his own erection simply did not matter in face of that. Lacing his hands behind his back to spare himself the temptation of reaching out, Micheletto slowly took his master’s length into his mouth, all the while being very careful of his own scruffy beard and teeth. Licking and slurping gently first along the head, then the veins, he heard a breathy exhale from his master. That was the only warning he got before Cesare Borgia decided on a change of pace.

Strong hands gripped his hair harshly, sending flares of pain jolting into his head, even as, all of a sudden, the cock in his mouth began thrusting back and forth energetically in his mouth. Suddenly, it was all Micheletto could do to relax his throat and fight his gag reflex as his master decided to set a rapid pace. At this point in time, Micheletto was certain that he had no more value as a human than as a warm, moist receptacle to satiate his master’s carnal desires. Yet Micheletto found that he did not mind in the least, and was, in fact, inexplicably aroused by that.

“Micheletto…” came his master’s deep, breathy whisper in that unique timbre that always heralded…Sure enough, the next moment, a gush of fluid filled his mouth. Salty and bitter…it was not his favourite flavor, but without even waiting for further orders, Micheletto swallowed the entire mouthful, all the while gently sucking and laving the cock in his mouth as his master worked his way through his orgasm.

Then, all too soon, it was over as his master pulled out of his mouth and ordered Micheletto to tidy him up. Ignoring the by now raging and rampant hard-on in his own breeches, Micheletto gently tucked back his master’s member into his breeches and laced it up with quick, precise efficiency, before rising to his feet. He knew better than to mention his own discomfort and need. If his master was feeling generous, sometimes he would get Micheletto off with rough pulls of his hands. More often than not however, he was sent off back to his room with nary a thought given to his turgid erection. Sometimes, when Cesare did this, he would watch Micheletto out of the corner of his eye, as if to observe his reaction. Micheletto had a suspicion that his master was waiting to see if Micheletto would ever _ask_ for reciprocation.

Micheletto knew he would never do that. The reason was simple. His master commanded. He obeyed. To ask, to beg, for anything more would be presumptuous and it would upset the balance of their relationship. Yet Micheletto knew that his master would never be satisfied with a verbal answer. Time and again, he would keep pushing and pushing, in actions that spoke louder than words, just to see if Micheletto would fail this test.

Sure enough, this time, his master was looking at him with that curious twinkle in his eye again…but wait, there was a bit more this time. A dangerous gleam in his master’s eyes that sent shivers down Micheletto’s spine.

Before Micheletto could react, quick as lightning, Cesare’s hands were at his breeches. Unlacing them quickly, his master’s nimble fingers soon rested on his cock while the other hand tightened into a firm grip on Micheletto’s bicep. With one quick tug, Micheletto’s angry, red, leaking and engorged cock was out in the open.

“I see desperation.” Micheletto could hear the smirk in his master’s voice even as Cesare cast an amused glance at Micheletto’s angry weeping member.

“Your Eminence…has the ability…to invoke it…” Micheletto rasped breathily as Cesare’s talented fingers stroked, twisted and traced his sensitive cock.

“Have I? Well, I must surely live up to that claim.” The sharp, predatory amusement evident on his master’s face boded no good for Micheletto. Sure enough…

Cesare leaned forward until his face was mere inches from Micheletto’s own. Deep, dark eyes bore into Micheletto’s wild, excited ones as he commanded in an almost-gentle whisper. “You are not allowed to release, Micheletto.”

All the while, Cesare’s fingers had been caressing Micheletto’s engorged cock, slowly but surely bringing Micheletto ever closer to the peak…A sharp gasp tore itself from Micheletto’s throat as the implications of those words sank in, as an intense jolt of arousal sparked somewhere at the base of Micheletto’s abdomen at his master’s dominance. Then, a rather needy whine, somewhat mournful, that Micheletto would never have believed could have come from him, accompanied the gasp, as his master’s strokes hastened and turned harsher. Micheletto had to exercise every single ounce of his willpower to prevent himself from cumming right there and then. But no, his master had given his command, and Micheletto would obey.

Wave upon wave of pain and pleasure filled Micheletto as he was stroked ever closer to that edge of shining pleasure whilst trying to hold back his release. Moans and gasps fell from his mouth, where heretofore he had been as silent as he could…but still, not once did the thought of begging for succor crossed his mind, of pleading for leniency. For his master was Cesare Borgia and he was pitiless. And that was what Micheletto liked about him; it was what had attracted him to his master in the first place.

Then, just when Micheletto thought he could hold it back no longer, his master withdrew his hand…both of them. The emptiness from the lack of touch and rush of cool air shocked Micheletto for a moment, as he struggled to calm. Oh, but it was exquisite agony, to be brought so close to the peak only to have that shiny crest of orgasm denied…were Micheletto a lesser man, he’d be hoarse with begging by now. As it was, he only fell to his knees once more as he could no longer support himself.

Peering up through sticky, damp hair that was falling into his eyes, Micheletto was glad to see the satisfied gleam in his master’s eyes. He had pleased his master, and passed the latter’s impromptu test. Warm satisfaction flooded through his limbs at that, even as the pain in his member grew to an intensity that would have felled a lesser man.

“You may return to your chambers, sweet assassin. Be here at noon on the morrow, we have much to discuss.” It was a curt dismissal, yet it left Micheletto harder than ever. But no, release would not be forthcoming this night, not even from his own hands, for Cesare's order had been clear; he was not allowed release. The implied ‘at all’ was inherent in that order. Even the prostitutes at the lowliest of brothels would have protested such treatment, but Micheletto only bowed his head and said three words.

“Yes, Your Eminence.”

 


End file.
